


Familiar Feelings

by Fier



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fox Mulder Torture, Hurt Fox Mulder, Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:41:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25652272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fier/pseuds/Fier
Summary: With Skinner's help, Mulder faces his history of abuse from his father.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, Margaret Scully/Walter Skinner
Kudos: 17





	Familiar Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Familiar Feelings 01/01  
> Author: Daydreamer  
> Author E-Mail: Daydream59@aol.com  
> Rating: PG - some disturbing imagery  
> Category: SA MSR  
> Archive: Yes, please  
> Feedback: Yes! Please!
> 
> Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully, et al, are owned by Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, Fox Television Network, etc. They are wonderfully brought to life by David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson. I will make no profit from this, and neither will Fox if they sue me, for I am poor and have nothing material they can profit from.
> 
> _A Companion Piece to Susan Proto's[Familiar Faces](http://susanproto.freeservers.com//familiarfaces.html) _

Mulder smiled at Scully as they walked through the small park near their office. "Skinner's gonna be there? Again?" he said jokingly.

She rolled her eyes then looked up at him. "Yes, Mulder, Skinner is going to be there. You know he's seeing Mom on a fairly regular basis now."

Mulder chuckled, "Yeah, I know. It's just hard for me to picture Skinner and your mother. He's so . . ." He shrugged. "And your mom. She's so . . ." He grinned. "Well, you know."

They both laughed. "It does seem rather odd to me too, Mulder," Scully agreed.

"I have to admit, this is not the Skinner I've come to expect. I didn't realize the man had a sense of humor at all. He continues to surprise me."

Scully was smiling. "My mom brings out the best in people." She looked up at him, her smile widening to a grin. "Just look at you, _Fox_ ," she teased.

Mulder smiled back. "Well, he certainly seems smitten with your mom."

Scully laughed again. "Smitten, Mulder? Come on, this is the nineties."

"Yeah, well, I don't think Skinner is a totally nineties kinda guy."

"Probably a good thing," Scully commented. "I don't think Mom would really want a nineties kind of guy."

Mulder stopped walking and pulled Scully into an embrace. "And what about you? Do you want a nineties kind of guy? 'Cause I gotta tell you - I'm completely smitten here." He gave her a lopsided grin, his eyes soft as he looked down at her.

"I want you, Mulder," she said, "Only you."

He kissed her softly, then turned, taking her hand, and they began walking again.

"So, what time do we have to be there?" he said.

"I told Mom we'd be there around noon. That'll give me a chance to help her with the potato salad and deviled eggs. You and _Walter_ have been given the honor of handling the barbecue." She smiled slyly at him.

Mulder groaned. "Oh, please, no, not that. You know how I am with charcoal." He eyed her pleadingly. "And besides, I'm afraid of fire." He grinned.

Scully laughed again, "Oh, suck it up, Mulder. You can handle it."

Mulder sighed, then said, "Well, one can only hope Skinner knows how to handle a grill; otherwise, you better take sandwich makings."

* * *

Saturday dawned clear and warm. It was a beautiful day for early autumn as Scully and Mulder set out to make the drive to Baltimore. Casual clothes, windows down, relaxed and enjoying the moment.

When they arrived, Margaret met them at the door, immediately engulfing Scully in a huge hug, then turning to pull Mulder down into her embrace as well.

"There you are," she said. "I didn't think you'd ever get here!"

"Mom," Scully said, "it's 12:02! I told you we'd be here by noon. I hardly think you had reason to get concerned."

Margaret smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Well, I was just beginning to get a little worried." She took their arms, leading them into the house. "Come on, there's lots to do."

Mulder and Scully followed her through the house to the kitchen. Skinner was there, standing at the counter by the sink, slicing tomatoes into cubes.

Scully said, "Hello, Sir."

He looked up, smiling, and said, "Walter, remember? It's Walter off duty."

"Oh. Right. Hello, Walter," she said, the name still unfamiliar on her tongue.

"Well, it's still Mulder for me," Mulder said as he walked across the room towards Skinner.

Skinner turned. "What? I don't get to call you Fox, like Maggie does?" he teased.

Mulder smiled, but his eyes narrowed in warning. "Don't even think about it," he said.

Skinner laughed uproariously and reached out and slapped Mulder on the arm. The younger man immediately cringed, stepping back several paces, dropping to a crouch, and lifting his hands in a protective gesture before his face.

Time froze. No one moved. No one said anything. All eyes were glued to Mulder.

At last Skinner said, "Holy shit, Mulder. Are you all right?" He took a step forward, hand reaching out, then stopped, uncertain if his offer of help would be welcomed.

Mulder's eyes were unfocused, and it took him a minute to see the hand, partly extended to him. He looked up to find Skinner's face hovering in the air above him. He closed hihs eyes for a long moment, then stared at the floor as he rocked back onto both heels. He caught his balance and rose awkwardly, looking around to see Maggie and Scully both staring at him.

He flushed, turning bright red in embarrassment. "I, uh - well," he shrugged. "Sorry." He turned and darted out the back door and into the back yard.

Scully started to follow, but Skinner reached out, stopping her. "No, Dana. This is the second time he's reacted like this. Remember the office a few weeks ago? Well, I was the trigger both times. Let me go talk to him."

She studied him carefully, then slowly nodded. "If he gets upset you come get me," she ordered.

"I'll come get you if he gets *too* upset," Skinner amended.

Finally, Scully nodded again, and Skinner went out the back door.

* * *

He found Mulder seated at the picnic table, studying the wooden boards as if they were the most interesting things in the world. He approached slowly, and when he was several feet away, he called, "Mulder?"

The younger man looked up. Unshed tears glistened in his eyes. "I, uh, would really like to be alone, Sir," he said.

Skinner took two steps forward. "It's all right, Mulder," he said.

"No, Sir, it's not all right."

Skinner took another step and then gently reached out and laid his hand on Mulder's shoulder. The younger man flinched at the touch, but then relaxed. "I - I'm sorry, Sir. I know you wouldn't hurt me."

Skinner slowly began to knead the shoulder, feeling the tight muscles, the tautness through the back. He took another couple steps forward, till he was standing directly behind Mulder.

"That's right, Mulder," Skinner said. "I would never hurt you." He paused, then added, "Do you really know that?"

Mulder shrugged. "I think so. I - I think I know that. But sometimes, it - it just washes over me like a wave, and I can't do anything about it."

Skinner placed his other hand on Mulder's other shoulder. His legs were flush against Mulder's back, and he began a gentle massage of the other man's shoulders.

"Tell me," he said softly.

Mulder dropped his head into his hands. "I don't know if I can," he whispered.

Skinner slowly slid his hand down to Mulder's chest, and pulled the younger man to him, in a gentle hug. "You can, Mulder. It's OK, you're safe. I'm not gonna hurt you." He released him, leaving his hands to rest lightly on his shoulders, and said once more, "Tell me."

There was a long, heavy silence, then Mulder shuddered and drew in a deep ragged breath. "It was always so sudden, so unexpected. I'd think everything was OK, and suddenly, he'd lash out, and I'd go flying across the room. I - I wouldn't even know what I'd done."

He looked up, his eyes meeting Skinner's. "I was a good kid," he said, vestiges of disbelief in his voice.

Skinner patted him gently, "I'm sure you were, Mulder."

"No. Sir, this is really important! You've got to understand. I was _really_ a good kid. Especially after Samantha disappeared. I felt so guilty, and my mom needed me so much. And I guess somewhere deep down inside of me, I figured if she could disappear, I could too. And I was _really_ a good kid." He dropped his head again.

Skinner squeezed his shoulder. "I understand, Mulder. It is important. And I'm sure you were a good kid."

Mulder nodded, then looked up gratefully. "Even then, I knew I was a good kid. And so, I couldn't make sense of why he kept hitting me like that." His eyes fell again, staring at the ground. "It was a long time later before I came to understand that I was just a convenient outlet for his rage. It probably wasn't even really directed at me. But I spent my whole adolescence trying to stay out of the way of his arm, his hand, his fist, his foot. Trying to figure out what I'd done that time. Promising I'd never do it again. Trying to convince myself I'd do better next time. And somewhere in the back of my head, trying to convince myself it wasn't my fault. Trying to stay sane."

Mulder gave a little shake and pulled away from Skinner, rising, to walk to little ways away and stand by a small garden shed. "I guess that's why I went into Psych. Trying to understand myself."

"Gotten any insights?" Skinner asked.

"Yeah, some, " Mulder replied. "I mean, I know on an intellectual level, it wasn't my fault. I understand the syndrome. But, uh, understanding it doesn't change the experience." He gave a shaky little laugh.

"And some learned behaviors are so deeply ingrained that you just - respond - without thinking, even in a totally different context." His voice was surer now. He turned and met Skinner's gaze. "I'm really sorry, Sir."

"No, Mulder. You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who should apologize. I knew, from what happened in the office a few weeks back, that that type of horseplay had the potential to upset you. And I didn't think. I did it again. And I am truly, very sorry."

Mulder nodded gravely, accepting the apology. He stood looking at the ground, then wrapped his arms around his chest, hugging himself. "You know what was worse?" He looked up, searching Skinner's eyes. "Worse than the beatings, worse than being hit?"

"No, Mulder. What was worse?"

"Being ignored. He completely ignored me. And I swear, as I got older, I used to provoke him on purpose, just so he'd look at me, talk to me, acknowledge me, touch me. Even if it was - to knock me across the room - at least he touched me. He knew I was alive. I was still there."

Skinner closed his eyes, and drew in a quiet breath. When he opened them, Mulder was staring at the ground again.

"I missed - having a father who touched me. Before Samantha disappeared, he used to read to me. He read to us both. He'd come sit on my bed and talk to me, when he got home, late at night. He taught me to play chess. He would pat my shoulder as he walked by, or ruffle my hair. He touched me a lot before Samantha disappeared.

"I never did figure out why he did it. At first, I thought he blamed me for losing Samantha. I was being punished."

Skinner winced at the nonchalance in Mulder's tone, the attitude that his father's behavior was acceptable and understandable in light of his 'crime.'

"But as I got older and realized how much he drank, I thought maybe it was because of the alcohol. And then, after the divorce, I thought maybe he just couldn't be bothered. I just don't know - and now, I guess I never will" This last was uttered as a mere whisper.

Mulder stood in silence, then mumured, "Yeah, that was the worst. I - uh," he shook his head. "That was the worst."

Skinner stood looking at the tall young man, arms wrapped protectively about his body, head down, gazing at the ground. One toe drew lazy circles in the grass, his lower lip quivered, and as Skinner watched, a fat tear slid down his face to splash against his shirt.

He stepped closer to Mulder, then said gently, "Mulder, not every man who touches you will touch you in anger."

Mulder nodded, a short, jerky up and down movement of his head. "I know that, Sir. I know that."

"Mulder, look at me."

Mulder lifted his head, his eyes seeking Skinner's. "Sir?"

"You were a good kid, Mulder. You didn't deserve that." Skinner opened his arms and extended them towards Mulder. "You deserved to know the good touches - gentleness, care, love. Now, you're a good man, Mulder. You need to let this go."

Mulder's eyes were full, and as he looked at Skinner standing there, arms open, waiting, the tears began to fall. "I don't know if I can, Sir," he choked.

"You can, Mulder. It's all right." Skinner stood patiently.

Mulder took one step forward, then froze, arms tightening around his chest, and he rocked in place. "I don't know if I can," he said again.

"You can, Mulder, you can."

He took another step and Skinner's fingers brushed his arms. He grabbed him and pulled him into a tight embrace. The younger man began to sob. Mulder buried his head in Skinner's shoulder, the tears poured out, and he grieved.

There, in the arms of a man he respected, a man he looked up to, a man he had come to care for, a man who cared for him, he was finally safe to grieve. To grieve for the little boy whose father had forgotten how to touch him in love.


End file.
